Page 45 of One Way Out

The guard rolls his shoulders back, shoves his key card into his pocket, and walks over to the table. Pulling the file folder from under his arm, he tosses it down and grabs the chair before taking a seat.

“What part of keep your fucking heads down was difficult to understand?” he growls, jabbing a finger at Shaw. “I did you assholes a favor by rushing your intake, and this is how you repay me? By killing two HVAs?”

Shaw scoffs. “Can you call a wannabe rapist a high-value asset? In my book, that’s the kind of dog you put down.”

“Men like you and me? Sure, for us, sexual assault is the most vile crime you can imagine because it’s the one you’d never commit.” McCabe’s head shakes. “Every level of this facility is filled with evil. If you can dream it, they’ve done it.”

“And you can just ignore that and go about your assignment?” I ask, my disgust evident.

“My mission parameters are clear,” McCabe says simply. “And my time here is coming to an end.” He nods at the two of us. “As is yours. I gave you the better part of ten hours to claim the omega. You failed to completeyourmission, so now I’m once again forced into the role of savior.”

“How exactly are you saving us by separating us from Saylor?” Shaw growls. His foot bounces against the floor, betraying his emotions.

He should know better.

Hedoesknow better.

But I get it.

I’m a fucking mess too.

I just have a slightly better poker face.

Shaw has always worn his emotions on his sleeve. At least, when it comes to Saylor.

“The facility supervisor won’t allow you to be placed back in the cell with Saylor.” McCabe shrugs. “He read me the riot act for the last hour for theoversightof placing her back in the cell with you in the first place. I don’t have the authority to override his decision, so I made the best call I could under the circumstances.”

“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, slamming my foot into Shaw’s under the table.

His head whips in my direction, but it stops his chair from shaking, meaning mission accomplished.

“When alphas fail to bond during their prepaid time at the facility, there are three options,” McCabe says calmly. “The first is, their benefactor pays the nominal fee of one-hundred thousand euros to be done with the problem. The doctor handles the euthanization and everyone moves on with their day. The second is, the benefactor chooses to extend the stay of the asset or assets. The third rarely plays out, but it has on occasion. If the benefactor simply gets tired of paying, we release the assets back into the world. Former prisoners have been known to hold a grudge against whoever trapped them here, and in some cases, they take out their bosses without any prodding necessary. Once they’re released, they’re no longer our problem.”

“So, you’re going to keep us in this room for the next six months?” Shaw asks dubiously. “Just let it ride until our time runs out?”

“No,” the British man says, rolling his icy blue eyes. “Under the same vein of option three, a benefactor in good standing—meaning they don’t owe the facility any money—can request their asset back at any time, for any reason. It’s in the contract your boss at Shadow Security signed.” McCabe flips open the file, shoving at us. “I reached out to Easton. He approved your immediate dismissal from the facility. Ridge is en route. He will meet our team in a little less than two hours.” He taps a photo on the left side of the folder.

I vaguely remember Omen mentioning that, for security reasons, no one knows exactly where the facility is located.

My eyes rake over the picture McCabe gestures to. It seems to be a warehouse or possibly a small airplane hangar. He has to know we won’t be leaving the country without Saylor, no matter what he or the other guards have to say about it.

“Is that the meeting place where we’ll be surrendered to Ridge?” I ask.

“No.” He slides the picture aside and there are several others. “Amato isn’t in the mood to wait. He will arrive in Germany in under twenty-four hours. He’s requested immediate access to his assets. The meeting is scheduled for nine p.m. tomorrow. The facility has three locations we use to relinquish prisoners to their benefactors.”

“That’s where you’ll be dropping off Saylor, Omen, and Valor?” Shaw leans over the table, examining the images even more closely.

“Correct,” McCabe says, pulling a tiny slip of paper from the paperclip on the front cover of the folder. He shoves his chair back and walks around the table, squatting down at Shaw’s side. “This is the address of the meeting point.” He pushes the paper into the side of Shaw’s boot before standing and grabbing the interior picture of the warehouse or hangar. He folds it up and slides it into the side of my boot, jamming it down deep enough that no one will be able to see it unless they give me a thorough search. “I suggest you scout it out and have your plan in place before the sun goes down.” He pops up, procures a handcuff key, and moves to uncuff me. “My mission here has come to an end. As long as everything runs smoothly, I’ll be exfilling while you’re rescuing Saylor. Once you’re handed over to your coworker, I’ll be unable to assist in any capacity.”

“Why exactly are you helping us?” Shaw asks as McCabe pulls off my cuffs.

I rub at the tender, broken skin and stretch my fingers to regain feeling.

McCabe grabs Shaw’s cuffs and gets to work uncuffing him. “I didn’t put my neck on the line for that woman to have her raped and tormented by Amato while he uses her as leverage to keep his minions in line.” The clicking of Shaw’s cuffs fills the air and the British MI6 agent steps back. “I’ve also negotiated two favors—one from your boss and the other from her father. I’m hoping to retire with my life intact. I’ve been collecting markers for twelve years, but something tells me those will be particularly useful when it’s time for me to call them in, especially the one from the senator.”

My eyes narrow, but I quickly kick Shaw’s foot to tell him to stand down. I’m not any fonder of that fucker than he is, but bottom line, even if McCabe has an agenda of his own, he still saved our asses. He can act like he’s superior in this situation.

If anything goes wrong, Shaw and I will hunt him down, but for now, he can think he’s won.

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